Friday, October 28, 2011

Monday, October 24, 2011

i sat on the end of his bed while he laid there. he asked to hold my hand. we held hands. after a little while, i loosened my grip, just to see if he had fallen asleep yet. he wiggled his fingers, and his hand started to get restless. "that's enough, honey," i said, "it's time to sleep." "but why do you keep opening up your hand?" he asked. so i tightened my hold again. and i felt his body relax. he was at ease.

our family is in a period of adjustment. from a family of three to a family of four. the little boy who had all of our attention, now is learning to share not just some of it, but a lot of that attention with his little sister.

we're trying to be flexible. give him time, attention... the things we think he needs to get used to the changes.

but there are moments of struggle. meltdowns. tears.

there is a constant battle within me...

he needs us to be flexible... should i be flexible right now?

he's getting used to all of this... i need to understand where he's coming from.

he needs routine... should i stick to our "normal" routine?

my answer is no... is it a reasonable no, or does it really matter?

and when i say a constant battle... i mean constant. a dialogue in my head that is continually searching for the "right" answer. the one that will hopefully allow him to be well adjusted... understanding... not resentful...

and then we had a rough night. so many "no's"... so many tears... so many inner dialogues...

and i finally just sat at the end of his bed, after what seemed like hours of him trying to fall asleep, and just sat with him. and the story above followed. and this time they were my tears that flowed. and i realized that he was begging for that tighter hold. as much as i assumed he needed us to be understanding and flexible, what he needs even more, are the boundaries that for three years, he's relied on.

with those boundaries, he can know what to expect. how far he can go. with those boundaries, he can understand that even within our growing family, not everything has changed.

Imagine driving over a bridge in the dark. If the bridge has no railings we will drive across it slowly and tentatively. But if we see railings on either side of us, we can drive over the bridge with easy confidence. This is how a young child feels in regard to limits in his environment.

when i let go of his hand, even just a little bit, his little fingers don't know where to go.

brush some oil onto the bottles. this will help later on, when you're trying to pop the ghosts off. otherwise, they stick and can be really hard to pry off...

pour some water into a bowl, and add some glue. i've never really done an exact measurement, but i'm thinking it's almost 1:1. you just want some watered down glue...

mix it up...

cut the cheesecloth into manageable pieces. they should be big enough to fully drape over the bottles, with some extra at the ends. unless you want some shorter ghosts :) you can leave the cheesecloth in layers, or peel apart the layers... it all depends on how many times you want to dip, and how thick you want your ghosts...

dip the cheesecloth into the glue mixture...

squeeze out the excess liquid...

open up the wet cheesecloth as best you can...

and drape it over your bottle.

keep repeating for more layers or more ghosts...

or just for the messy factor...

let the ghosts sit for a day or two to fully dry...

then pop them off the bottles. they will most likely stick a little bit, but just wiggle and twist the bottle around... they'll eventually come off.

why i am a wanderer...

when i was little, i was in a day camp called "the happy wanderers." i've always thought that was a funny name...endearing, i guess. and now, many years later, i find that it suits me again. i'm learning as i go, and going as i learn. and i'm truly happy as i wander through it all.